by Terri Reid
She nodded. “Yes, you would think that,” she said. “Unless there’s a waiting line.”
“What?” Mike asked.
“There are only twenty chairs in the Finders Mansion parlor. Only places for twenty spirits. So, if he stole from hundreds of people, could there be some long, ghostly, waiting line for a spot in the parlor?”
“Mary that’s kind of freaky,” Mike said. “How long will it take you to get rid of all of those ghosts?”
“Yeah and that’s the easy question,” she replied.
“What’s the hard one?” he asked.
“Are any of the ghosts who are waiting angry about what was done to them?” she asked. “And what are they willing to do to the new owners of Finders Mansion?”
Chapter Fourteen
Bradley opened the front door and greeted Alex and his friend.
“Bradley, this is Dave Reid,” Alex said. “We go way back. Dave this is Bradley Alden, Freeport’s Chief of Police.”
The word that came to mind when Bradley met Dave was burly. He wasn’t quite as tall as Alex’s six-foot frame, but he had the build of a weight-lifter and the hand-shake of someone who could probably crush a can in one hand. He had a full beard and an easy smile, and his whole personality seemed laid-back. “Good to meet you,” Bradley said, inviting them both in. “Thanks for coming.”
“My pleasure,” Dave replied, his voice friendly, with a hint of laughter in it. “Boettch told me you were good people.”
“Boettch?” Bradley asked with a smile.
Dave grinned. “Does he make you call him Mister District Attorney or something like that?” he teased.
Bradley laughed and shook his head. “No, nothing like that at all,” Bradley replied. “Just Alex.”
Dave looked surprised and shook his head. “Really? He even makes his mom call him Mister District Attorney,” he replied, and then he laughed too. “Sorry, just kidding, Alex is a good guy.”
“And I’m used to his weird sense of humor,” Alex replied, then he looked around. “Where’s Mary?”
“I’m here,” Mary called, walking into the living room. “I just needed to finish a couple of things in the kitchen.”
“Mary, I want you to meet my good friend, Dave Reid,” Alex said. “Dave, this is Mary O’Reilly Alden.”
“Nice to meet you, Dave,” Mary said, extending her hand.
Dave’s hand swallowed up Mary’s smaller hand, and he smiled at her. “Nice to meet you too,” he replied.
“Turns out, Mary,” Alex said. “That Dave already knows a little bit about you.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah, my mom, who lives just outside of Freeport, told me about you,” he said.
“Oh, so what do you know?” Mary asked.
Dave smiled. “Well, I know that you have a special ability that not many other people have,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “And I know that you’ve been very helpful in solving cases in northwest Illinois.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “Wow, you do seem to know about me,” she replied.
Dave shrugged. “Well, no offense, but part of what I do is make sure I fully understand a situation that I’m getting into before I get into it,” he said.
“No offense taken,” Mary said. “I don’t blame you in the least.”
“Mom,” Clarissa interrupted running down the stairs. “When are we going to eat…” She paused and stared at Dave.
Dave turned to her and smiled back. “Hey, I’m Dave,” he said. “Who are you?”
“Clarissa,” the little girl said tentatively.
“Nice name,” Dave replied.
“Are you a lumberjack?” Clarissa asked.
A low rumble of laughter started in Dave’s chest and then spilled out into the room. “No, I’m not,” he replied. “But I have cut down trees before.”
“With your bare hands?” Clarissa asked.
Dave chuckled. “No, with a chain saw,” he admitted. “Are you a princess?”
Clarissa blushed happily and shook her head. “No, I’m just a little girl,” she replied.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because you look just like a princess.”
She grinned widely and nodded. “Pretty sure,” she said and then she turned to Mary. “Is he going to stay for dinner?”
Mary smiled and nodded. “Yes, he is,” she replied. “And dinner will be ready in five minutes, so go upstairs and wash up.”
Clarissa nodded, smiled at Dave, and then dashed up the stairs.
“So, what am I?” Alex said. “Chicken soup?”
Dave laughed and patted Alex on the back. “Hey, it always happens when we’re together,” he teased. “The cute chicks just don’t see you when I’m around.”
“Why don’t you both come into the dining room,” Mary offered, chuckling softly. “We’re expecting Stanley and Rosie at any moment; then we can have dinner.”
Chapter Fifteen
“So,” Stanley said, leaning forward on the table and looking at Dave. “Where’d you get your training.”
Dave studied the old man for a moment and then nodded slowly. “I was out of Fort Bragg,” he said. “Was in Special Forces and then got an invitation to go Delta.”
Stanley’s eyes widened, and he leaned back, nodding at the man across the table from him. “Don’t everybody get an invitation like that,” he said.
“No, sir,” Dave replied quietly.
Stanley smiled, his respect for the young man growing. Then he smiled. “Guess you’re good at what you do,” he said.
Dave grinned. “Damn…” he started to stay, then stopped and glanced over at Clarissa. “I beg your pardon, Mary. Darn good.”
“You look so familiar,” Rosie said. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”
“I used to go to Freeport High School,” he said. “And I took part in quite a few theater productions years ago.”
“Well, that must be it,” Rosie said. “I love going to the theater.”
“I did too, ma ‘am,” he replied. “I think it’s in my blood.”
“How long have you been away from Freeport?” Bradley asked.
“Nearly ten years,” Dave replied.
He liked the guy, Bradley admitted to himself, but when his family was concerned, he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. He didn’t want to sound like he was interrogating him, but, he admitted, he was. He just didn’t want to sound like it. “And what brought you back here?”
Dave smiled and nodded. He understood. Bradley was a cop, and a cop’s first instinct is to be suspicious, that’s how they survived every day. So, he sure wasn’t going to take offense to the man’s questions.
“I finished my time in the service,” Dave said. “And I was tired of traveling. I’m not too fond of airplanes, and I got tired of hotel rooms. I’d invested some money a while back, and it did well. I grew up here, in the country, and I missed it. So, I bought a place with some acreage, a pond big enough for fishing, and a deck with a grill. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next, but I’m in no hurry to make those decisions.”
“Tell them the real reason I invited you here,” Alex said.
Dave shrugged. “Through the work I’ve done, I’ve made a lot of contacts,” he said. “Especially in government agencies. I might be able to help you with the distribution of funds you’re charged with.”
“That would be great,” Mary said. “Anything to speed this process up would be helpful.”
Alex shook his head. “No, the real reason,” he insisted.
Dave turned and looked at his friend, studying him for a few moments, then he began to turn towards Mary, but he quickly looked beyond Mary into the kitchen. Mary turned to see what Dave was looking at, but all she could see was Mike, lounging against the doorway, listening to the conversation.
Dave looked back to Mary and motioned with his head. “Friend of yours?” he asked softly.
Mary’s jaw dropped and then she slowly nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, then surr
eptitiously glanced over in Clarissa’s direction, then back at Dave and shook her head.
“Okay,” he said casually. “Maybe we want to discuss the real reason later.”
Mary nodded and released a pent-up breath. “Yes, that’s a great idea,” she said. “Later would work well.” She turned and looked down the table at her daughter. “Clarissa, do you want to help me serve dessert?”
Clarissa nodded and slid out of her chair. “Sure,” she agreed. “Uncle Dave, do you want to help too?”
Dave smiled at her and nodded. “I would love to help,” he said. “Especially if it means we get more than everyone else.”
She giggled and nodded. “It pretty much does,” she said. “Especially when we get to put on the whipping cream.”
They left the table, and Alex turned to Bradley. “Dave’s got twenty-one nieces and nephews,” he said. “And they all have him wrapped around their fingers.”
Bradley nodded and watched Dave interact with Mary and Clarissa in the kitchen. “Yeah, he seems like a good guy,” he said.
“But when you’re protecting your wife and kids, seems is not good enough,” Alex said, soft enough for only Bradley to hear.
Chapter Sixteen
An hour later, Clarissa was upstairs getting ready for bed with her dad’s help, and Mary was cleaning things up in the kitchen. She could hear the conversation in the living room as she slipped the leftovers into small plastic tubs.
“Can I help?”
Mary nearly dropped the china platter she was holding. “Why are people always doing that to me?” she asked Dave when she turned to look at him.
He smiled. “Sorry, I tend to walk softly,” he replied with an apologetic shrug. “It comes with the old job description.”
She handed him the platter. “You can rinse this off if you’d like,” she said, reaching for the next bowl of leftovers. She watched him walk over to the sink, rinse the platter and expertly stack it in the dishwasher. “So, do you come from a big family?”
He chuckled, taking the next bowl from her. “Seven kids,” he said with a wink. “So, you know, medium-sized. Why do you ask?”
She laughed. “You seem to know your way around a dishwasher,” she said.
“When I was a kid, we were so grateful when we got our first dishwasher,” he admitted. “Years of having to do dishes by hand suddenly came to an end.”
“How long did the gratitude last?”
He chuckled. “Oh, maybe a month,” he said. “Then we were complaining that we had to wash the pots and pans by hand.”
Nodding, she laughed too. “We did the same thing,” she said, handing him another platter.
“So, who’s the guy that hangs out in your kitchen,” he asked softly.
“That’s Mike,” Mary replied, not missing a beat. “You’ll like him.”
Dave studied her. “You don’t think it’s odd that I can see him?”
She turned to him and put her hands on her hips. “Really? You’re asking that to the person who has an angel hanging around in her kitchen?” she replied. “I don’t think anything is odd.” She paused then asked. “How long?”
“How long have I been able to see ghosts?” he asked. “Since I was little. We had a ghost in our house when I was growing up. My mom could feel her, but I was the only one who could see her.”
“How did that make you feel?” Mary asked, turning around and leaning against the counter to face him.
“Well, you know, at first I didn’t know it was strange,” he said. “In my family, we treated seeing and hearing ghosts like everyday occurrences. So, I figured it was somewhat normal. I figured out, once I was in school, that not everybody was as open-minded about things like that.”
“So, did you close it off?”
“I did, actually, for a little while,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to be the weird kid. But then, when I was in Afghanistan for the first time, an apparition appeared to me that ended up saving my life and the lives of the guys in my unit. I realized that instead of a curse; it was a gift.”
Mary nodded and then shrugged. “Well, yeah, but sometimes it feels like a curse,” she admitted.
“Like a responsibility,” he said.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, exactly.”
“Well, I guess it is,” he said, then he stopped when Mike appeared next to Mary.
“Mikey’s waking up,” Mike said. “I thought I should…”
“Hey, I’m Dave,” Dave said without waiting for an introduction. Then he studied Mike’s face carefully. “Did you used to work for the Freeport Fire Department?”
Mike turned and nodded. “Yeah, I did,” he said. “Why?”
“My softball team played your team,” Dave replied with a grin. “You were a damn good pitcher.”
Mike’s smile grew. “I remember you,” he said. “You could hit but couldn’t run worth a damn.”
Dave laughed and looked down his body to his toes. “This body isn’t meant for sprinting,” he said, then his voice quieted. “What happened, man?”
Mike shrugged. “Overly-possessive, fairly-disturbed, hot chick poisoned me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Dave asked. “What…”
“If you two will excuse me,” Mary interrupted, sliding between the two men. “I’ll just go check on Mikey.”
Just before she turned the corner, she looked back at the two, chatting like they were old friends. And, Mary thought with a smile, I guess they were.
Chapter Seventeen
“So, this is the place,” Dave said, looking around the front hallway of the Finders Mansion as they entered the house. “It’s amazing.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, it is,” she agreed. “Well, except for the paint color. It’s throughout the entire house.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “So, was someone color-blind?”
“No, Maybelle hated her father, and he hated this color,” Mary replied.
“Whoa, that’s a whole lot of angry to be surrounded by this every day,” Dave said.
They waited for Bradley and Alex to walk in and close the door behind them. Alex hesitated at the door. “You know, I could just stay across the street and help Rosie and Stanley watch the kids,” he offered.
Dave grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll protect you from the ghosties,” he teased, then he paused and looked towards the parlor. He lowered his voice, and there was no longer any amusement in his face. “There’s some pretty strong vibes coming from that room. Have you been in there yet?”
“Once,” Mary said. “And it was before I had my abilities back. We saw a shadow figure, and then some items in the room moved, it was pretty freaky.”
Any other activity?” Dave asked.
Slightly uncomfortable with his reaction when he was with Stanley the previous night, Bradley nearly didn’t answer. But he knew, as in any investigation, the more data you have, the better your findings. “The door opened on its own when I was here yesterday,” Bradley added, then he shrugged. “I figured it was a bad door lock. Stanley knew it was paranormal.”
“Sometimes it’s better to look for a logical explanation first,” Dave said to Bradley. “Not everything that happens in an old house has a paranormal cause.”
Bradley smiled and shook his head. “For some reason, when I’m with Mary, usually everything has a paranormal cause.”
Dave looked back at Mary. “Looks like you’re the unit leader, shall we go into the parlor?”
She nodded. “Yes, I am interested in the waiting room,” she replied. “After meeting Gilbert this afternoon, I’ve been a little worried about the spirits in there.”
Bradley took the lead, opening the parlor door, switching on the light and entering the room first. Mary followed Bradley, followed by Dave and Alex.
“Can you see anything?” Alex asked.
Both Mary and Dave slowly scanned the room.
“I don’t see a thing,” Mary said, shaking her head. “Maybe my abilities aren’t as good
as they used to be.”
“I don’t see anything either,” Dave replied. “I can feel some residual energy, but no lingering spirits.”
“Well, that’s odd,” Mary said. “Gilbert told me that there were at least twenty ghosts in this room.”
“Why twenty?” Alex asked.
“The number of chairs in the waiting room,” Bradley replied, looking at the empty benches and chair around them.
Mary smiled at Bradley. “Exactly,” she agreed. “That’s how Gilbert knew how many. He said the chairs were full.”
Dave walked through the parlor and into the adjoining office. He looked around. “No one is in here either,” he called from the room, and then he came back to join them. “I’m surprised.”
Alex leaned against the wall, feeling much more comfortable knowing that the room was currently unoccupied by ghosts. “Well, it isn’t office hours,” he joked, pointing towards an old sign on the wall that listed the hours the business was open.”
Mary looked at the sign and nodded. “You’re right, that’s probably it.”
“Wait. What? I was only joking,” Alex said, straightening from his earlier position. “Why would ghosts care about business hours?”
“Because there are patterns that ghosts follow,” Dave explained. “The farmer ghost will be seen in the milking barn at milking time because that’s when he used to be in there.”
Mary nodded. “And the housewife ghost will appear in the kitchen after dinner because that’s when she was cleaning things up,” she added.
“So, the ghosts waiting on Mr. Finders would show up during his business hours,” Bradley said. “Because that’s when they used to wait for him?”
“Or because that’s the most likely time to be able to interact with him,” Dave replied.
“So, there’s going to be twenty ghosts in here tomorrow morning at nine?” Alex asked.
“At least twenty,” Mary replied.
Bradley turned to her. “You keep repeating that, at least, part,” he said. “What are you thinking?”